That Stupid Lily
by Lynn2744
Summary: This is a one shot of the entire last chapter of the Golden Lily from Adrian's POV.


**Ok, so I just had to write a short little thing about what Adrian was thinking before and when he kissed Sydney. I thought it would only be right considering the next one comes out very soon! Hope you like it, if not review!**

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The knock at the door instantly filled me with dread. I really hope Belikov hadn't come back for more of my food. Or worse, Sydney come to ask questions. I much rather have Mr. Tall and brooding.  
Brushing aside the thought of him being in my place again I go to open the door. Gosh, why can't he just go home—then, I felt it. Her aura. The warmth of it has seeped though my door and set all my limbs on fire. How does this one crazy smart, passionate, and beautiful girl have this much effect on me? It's insane.

I pull open the door to see her just standing there with that anxious expression she always has.  
"Oh," is all I can say. She chose her burgundy button down today. Wow. It still amazes me that even this subtle shade of red can bring out all those mixes of gold in her eyes. "Unexpected," I say trying to hide my shock. I forgot to put my paintbrush down and, of course, she notices right away.  
"Am I interrupting anything?" she asks casually. I step aside as she walks though the door and I see that her aura is even brighter than usual. It still has the same yellow gold with rings of purple, but it has this... glow to it.  
"Just homework," I try to say casually. Seeing her expression I remember how sacred homework is to her. "Don't worry," I say trying to calm her down. "It's not the crisis for me that it would be for you." She relaxes a little and walks to the living room. The smile on her face is all that I need for the rest of my day to be complete.

"You've got your art studio back," she says eying the canvases.  
"Yup," I say and put my paintbrush down to wipe my hands off. So far all unwanted questions have been avoided. So I walk to the sofa and lean against it. "Now that this place is no longer research central, I can return it to its normal artistic state," I say while watching her look at all my paintings. She stops at the one I knew would get her attention. The painting depicts one of the main reasons I'm so hesitant to tell her everything I think about her—everything I love about her. That tragically beautiful lily. The curves and golden swirls on her cheek are always her, and my, constant reminder of what I am and who she is.

She is the inspiration for mostly everything I paint and I love that. From the contrasting colors in her eyes to the multiple colors of brown and gold in her hair, I love it all.  
"What's this?" she asks curiously. "It looks like a lily," she observes. I painted the lily the way I see her: beautiful, aloof, and totally off limits. So, why am I so drawn to her?  
"It is," I say. "No offense, but this lily is kind of more awesome than yours. If the Alchemists want to buy the rights to this and start using it, I'm willing to negotiate," I try to keep the easy smile on my face, but she just looks so beautiful today. It's too difficult to focus on things so small as facial expressions. She looks at me then back to the lily, still smiling.

"Noted," she says. The smile is starting to get odd. I mean, she's even more beautiful when she does, but it's just not like her. She's still analyzing the lily, trying to dissect it and learn everything about it. She eventually looks up, still smiling. Ok, now I just have to ask.  
"You're in an awfully good mood," I note nonchalantly. "Was there a sale at Khakis-R-Us?" Gosh, her eyes are entrancing. Like melted chocolate with liquid gold mixed in them. I wish I could capture the colors, but I've never been able to.  
"Nope. Brayden broke up with me," she says casually. Alright, now I'm confused. So, naturally I do the first thing that comes to mind.  
"Oh. I'm sorry," not _that_ sorry. Unless it does hurt her, but she seems to be fine. "Are you... I mean, do you need a drink? Do you need to, uh, cry or something?" I'm really at a loss here. She seems perfectly fine, but what girl is perfectly fine, if not better, after they're dumped?

"No," she says. Honestly, she looks like she's just as surprised by this as I am. "Weirdly, I'm fine. It really doesn't bother me at all," here it is. Now she looks uncertain. "But it should, right?" she asks. I try to think of what to say. How could anyone think there is something wrong with her? She's the most wonderful person ever.  
"I don't think so," I say honestly, because really? This is Brayden we're talking about. Not much to lose there. "Not every break up is a tragedy. Still... you might due for some kind of comfort," I could list oh so many right now... not the point, not the point at all. I need to get away from her right now. Best thing in emergency... GELATO! I grab the pomegranate gelato that I got a few days ago with a spoon. She looks confused, a rare thing for her.

"What's this for?" she asks. The look on her face is one that is so rare that I've never noticed how expressive her face is. She takes the gelato shocked and now even more curious.  
"For you, obviously," I say and look at her. I wonder if she remembers our deal. "You wanted pomegranate, right?" I ask, hoping I'm right.  
"Well, yeah," she says slowly. "But you didn't need to do this..." she lets the est of her thought trail off.  
"Well, you wanted it. That, and a deal's a deal," I say. Now I see that I've lost her. She doesn't remember our bet, but I do.  
"What deal?"  
"Remember when you said you'd drink a regular can of pop if I didn't smoke for a day?" I ask trying to spark a memory. "Well, I calculated the calories," look at me sounding smart! One point for Adrian. "And that's the same as a serving of this. If you can believe there are four servings in that tiny thing," this time I'm pretty sure the gelato was almost a goner.

"You... you went a day without smoking?" she says incredulously. And point two for Adrian, "Almost a week actually." Whoop, there it is! "So you can eat the whole thing if you want," I say prompting her to eat it.  
"Why on earth would you do that?" she asks. Man, she is really not getting the point here. I just shrug, she'll get it eventually... maybe.  
"Hey, you laid out the challenge," I point out. "Besides, smoking's an unhealthy habit, right?"  
She still looks completely stunned. Can we call that a point three? I think so.  
"Right..." she almost mumbles.  
"Eat up," I say. "It's going to melt." Then she simply hands it back. I'm about to say something about no backsies, but she speaks first.  
"I can't," she says looking down. "Not with you watching. It's too weird. Can I eat it later?" she asks looking at me with those big eyes. There goes my willpower. Right out the door. Great. Point one for Sydney.

"Sure," I say barely able to breathe. I take the gelato back to the freezer. "If you'll really eat it. I know how you are." That got a reaction. She crosses her arms and stands opposite me.  
"Oh?" she challenges. I try to give her my best tough-truth-time look. Now or never, she needs to hear this, "Maybe everyone else thinks your aversion to food is cute—but not me." How do I not make this sound creepy? "I've watched you watch Jill," oh yeah, nailed it. "Here's some tough love: you will never ever have her body. Ever. She's Moroi. You're human. That's biology. You have a great one," well, I didn't mean to be that honest... "One that most humans would kill for—and you'd look even better if you put on a little weight. Five pounds would be a good start. Hide the ribs. Get a bigger bra size," that last one is the on the top of my list! She's really taken aback by this, obviously.

"Adrian!" she says. Oh, I love it when she says my name. Like every syllable is just perfectly enunciated. "You... are you out of your mind? You have no right to tell me that! None at all," she says. I want to say that I can't help it. I can't stand seeing her starve herself and be so strict about this. She's so beautiful and she doesn't even see it.  
"I have every right, Sage," I say scoffing. "I'm your friend," oh, I hate that word. "And no one else is going to do it. Besides, I'm the king of unhealthy habits. Do you think I don't know one when I see it?" I slowly realize I'm ranting, but I don't care she needs to hear this. "I don't know where this comes from—your family, too many Moroi, or just your OCD nature—but I'm telling you, you don't have to do it," there. I said it. Not all of what I want to say, but most of it.  
"So," she says slowly. I didn't want hurt her—believe me that's the last thing I wanted to do—but she needed to hear it. "This is some kind of intervention?"  
"This is the truth," I say, trying to keep it simple. "From someone who cares and wants your body to be as healthy and amazing as your mind," well, that got a reaction. She turns a little red and tuns away from me.

"I'm not listening to this," she says, walking away. "I'm going. I never should have come by."  
Ugh! Adrian, why do you have to mess everything up? I can't let her leave. I reach for her shoulder and she stops. Her eyes mixes of beautiful colors...  
"Wait... listen to me," I say, trying to be stern. All I can really think is: please don't leave. "I"m not trying to be mean. You're the last person I want to hurt... but I don't want you hurting yourself either. You can ignore everything I just said, but I had to get it out, ok?" I really hope my desperation isn't bleeding into my voice. "I won't mention it again. You're the one in control of your life."  
She shifts her weight and turns more towards me blinking away tears.

"Thanks," she says in a small voice.  
Alright, band-aid is ripped off and she's almost crying. Subject change!  
"Why did you come by anyway?" I say, realizing too late they've already been said. Please say you need the lily painting. "You sure you don't want to make my awesome painting the new Alchemist logo?" I ask. Oh, good idea! Now lets bring in the other single most thing you didn't want to bring up here!  
She laughs anyway, a small one, but a laugh nonetheless.  
"No. Something much more serious," she says, still smiling. I'll take that as a good sign.  
"Must be _really_ serious," I say, trying to keep the mood light. Which completely knocks me off-guard for her question: "That night at the compound. How did you know how to drive the Mustang?"  
S**t. Well, there went my happiness. Here I thought we could skate around that little detail.

"Because you _did_," she says, a familiar fire filling her eyes. "You dove without any hesitation. As good as I could have. I started to wonder if maybe someone else had been showing you how to do it. But even if you'd had lessons everyday since you got the car, you couldn't have driven like that. You shifted like you've been driving manual your whole life."  
I suppose there's no hiding from this.  
"Maybe I'm a natural," I say, playing it off. I look away. How did I corner myself into this?  
"I'm right, aren't I?" she says. Man, she can be pushy. "You've been driving one your whole life!" she exclaims.

"Not even Moroi give licenses to infants, Sage," I say, trying to figure out how in the world I'm getting out of this. And then it hits me: I'm not. What would be so bad if I did just tell her how I felt? Just let it out?  
_Because she thinks you're an evil creature of the night and she despises everything you are, _says the reasonable part of my brain.  
"Don't dodge this, she insists. "You know what I mean. You've known how to drive a stick for years," she looks up at me and all I can do is stare. I know it means she's right, but I don't want to fight this anymore. I want her—I _need_ her. For months Rose has haunted me. She's been the only person I could think about. Sometimes, the only one I _wanted_ to think about. It all has changed though. Sydney came with her big brown eyes and her beautiful way of just... _being. _It's infuriating not to be able to put it into words. She just gave him something besides hurt to focus on.

"Why?" she practically begs. I don't know how to answer. She'll hate the truth and know if I lie. "Why would you do that? Why would you act like you didn't know how to drive?" she looks so confused. The millions of unanswered questions are all in her eyes now—all questions that I have the answers to.  
"Isn't it obvious, Sage?" I can't hold it back anymore. She has to know and I need to tell her, but she just doesn't understand. "No, of course it isn't. I did it so I would have a reason to be around you—one I knew you couldn't refuse," I say, no wanting to admit it to her. She still looks so confused.  
"But... why?" she asks, honestly confused. "Why would you want to do that?"  
By this point I really hope I don't sound annoyed. I'm not I just hate that she thinks that no one could love her.

"Why?" I ask mockingly. "Because it was the closest I could get to doing this," I say, and pull her to me. One hand on her waist and the other behind her neck. I'm no stranger to kissing, but this one is so different. It matters. I can feel her lips start to move with mine—wait. She's actually kissing me back?! Whoa. She's really good at it too. My limbs burned at every placed I touched her as I pressed her closer. She was so small and fragile. I was proven wrong in about three seconds when she gripped my back _very_ hard. So much for fragile.  
I trace my fingers along her spine and she moans softly. How has this happened? When she first came her I dreaded the thought of being near her and now we are making out in my living room. This moment is so perfect. So... _right._ How have I not been doing this with her my whole life?  
Then, our lovely moment comes to a stop and she backs away. The look on her face cuts me like a razor. She looks completely terrified.

"What... what are you doing?" she stammers. This can't end, I can't let it.  
"I don't know," I say smiling and step towards her, "But, I'm pretty sure you were doing it too."  
"No. _No,_" she says, frantic now. "Don't get any closer! You can't do that again. Do you understand? We can't ever... we shouldn't have... oh my gosh. No. Never again. That was wrong," she tries to reason with herself.  
"Wrong?" I question. Every part of me feels alive again. "I don't know, Sage. Honestly, that was the most right thing that's happened to me in a while."  
That earns me a classic _"How could you say that?!"_ look.  
She starts shaking her head, "how can you say that? You know how it is! There's no... well, you know. Humans and vampires can't... no. There can't be anything between them. Between us."

I almost would like to ask if she's trying to convince me or herself. Instead I stick with something she knows: facts. "Well, there had to have been at one point, or there wouldn't be any dhampirs today. Besides, what about the keepers?" I ask, only to realize that was not a very good point. She pretty much laughs and says, "the Keepers? The Keepers live in caves and wage campfire battles over possum stew. If you want to go live that life, you're more than welcome to. If you want to want to live in the civilized world with the rest of us, then do_ not _touch me again. And what about Rose? Aren't you madly in love with her?"

* * *

**(I just have to say that I hated that Sydney was such a jerk here. :( Sadness.)**

* * *

Well. If nothing else from this night hurt, that sure did. I try to stay calm and hope that she doesn't see how hard that really hit me.  
"Maybe I was once. But it's been... what, nearly tree months?" wow, I'm shocked I remembered that. "And honestly I haven't thought much about her in a while." The words just pour from my mouth I don't even know what I'm saying, I'm just saying them. "Yeah, I'm still hurt and feel kind of used, but... really she's not the one I'm always thinking about anymore. I don't see her face when I go to sleep. I don't wonder about—"

"No!" she cuts me off and backs up. "I don't want to hear this," she protests, "I'm not going to listen anymore."  
She has to listen though. I take a few steps towards her and sort of pin her to the wall. She's not actually touching either me or the wall, but I can see the feel of imprisonment in her face. I don't care about that right now, she has to listen. I take her wrists and pull them up to my chest. I know the feel of my beating heart won't magically make the thought _'oh! He's actually alive!'_ just occur to her, but I just want to be touching her again. I lean down too, I just don't want to be away from her.

"No," I insist, "you _will_ listen. For once, you're going to hear something that doesn't fit into your neat, compartmentalized world of order and logic and reason. Because this isn't reasonable. If you're terrified, believe me—this scares the hell out of me, too. You ask about Rose? I tried to be a better person for her—but it was to impress her, to get her to want me. But when I'm around you, I want to be better because..." I realize I'm ranting again, but she hasn't pulled away yet. So, I'll take that as a good thing. "Well, because it feels right. Because _I_ want to. You make me want to become something greater than myself. I want to excel. You inspire me in every act, every word, every glance. I look at you, and you're like... like light made into flesh," a memory from Halloween comes back to me, "I said it on Halloween and I meant every word: you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen walking this earth. And you don't even know it," she's blushing now. The colors filling her beautiful face even more. "You have no clue how beautiful you are or how brightly you shine."

All she does is stare for a moment. "Adrian—" she finally says.  
"And I know, Sage. I know how you guys feel about us. I'm not stupid, and believe me, I've tried to get you out of my head. But there isn't enough liquor or art or any other distraction in the world to do it. I had to stop going to Wolfe's because it was too hard being that close to you, even if it was all just pretend fighting. I couldn't stand the touching. It was agonizing because it meant something to me—and I knew it meant nothing to you. I kept telling myself to stay away altogether, and then I'd find excuses... like the car... anything to be around you again. Hayden was a jerk, but at least as long as you were involved with him, I had a reason to keep my distance," I can't help but notice how small her hands felt in mine. So perfectly proportioned to mine... just perfect in general.

"His name is Brayden," she says, searching for something to say, "and even without him you have a _million_ reasons to keep your distance. You say you know how we feel. But do you? Do you really?" her words sting. I guess that was the intent though. She pulls her hands from mine and points to her cheek where the stupid lily is. "Do you really know what the golden lily truly means? It's a promise, a vow to a lifestyle and a belief system. You can't throw something like that away. _This_ won't let me, even if I wanted to. And truthfully, I don't want to!" So. There it is. The cold truth staring me right in this face. "I believe in what we do!" I don't doubt what she's said. She does believe in it, but how much? She must see, at least some of, the flaws in them. They aren't as holy as she sees them to be.

"This 'lifestyle' and 'belief system' you're defending have used you and keep using you. They treat you like a piece of a machine, one that's not allowed tho think—and you're better than that," I'm trying to stay clam and not sound like I'm begging her to see my point. But for her I don't think I would be too opposed to begging if it came to it.  
"Some parts of the system are flawed," she concedes, "but the principles are sound, and I believe in them. There's a divide between humans and vampires—between you and me—that can never be breached. We're too different. We're not meant to be... like this. Like anything," she says, each word cutting worse than the last.

"None of us are meant to be anything," I point out, "we _decide_ what we're going to be. You told me once that there are no victims here, that we all have the power to choose what we want."  
Oh, that makes her mad. She gets defensive and tries to make this so she can escape what she's already said.  
"Don't use my words against me," she warns. Well, too bad. I'll do what I want.  
"Why?" I challenge smiling slightly. "They were really good ones. You're not a victim. You're not a captive to that lily. You can be what you want. You can choose what you want."

Well said, I think, mentally patting myself on the back. Which makes what she says next even that much more painful.  
"You're right," she slips away from me, "and I _don't_ choose you. That's what you're missing in all of this."  
Yep. That got me. I feel the smile fade from my face. I shake my head and say, "I don't believe you."  
"Let me guess. Because I kissed you back?" she scoffs. And that's what kills me about her: she and I both know that woke something up in her. It set her ablaze and now here she is denying everything she feels.  
I shake my head again, "No. Because there's no one out there who understands you like I do."

She waits for a moment then says, "That's it? You're not going to elaborate on what that means?" she asks expectantly. I look at her and she doesn't turn away.  
"I don't think I need to," I say honestly, and she looks away.  
"I you know me so well, then you'll understand why I'm leaving," she says quickly turning from me and heading toward the door.  
"Sydney—" I try, but she doesn't turn.  
"Goodbye, Adrian," she says, practically fleeing now. I want to run after her, but I can't move. I can't handle her sharp words again. I can't bear all these feelings right now. She never turns to look at me. I turn from the door and slam it. Only one thing to do now. I walk to the liquor cabinet and drink so much I feel the bond numb. Then I feel myself fall into an unconscious oblivion.


End file.
